We were almost to the front door when it burst open, and out stepped one not-so-happy-looking Josie Black. True to their style, Garth and Josie hadn’t been able to resist getting hitched a couple months back at some little chapel in Vegas when they’d been in town for the weekend for one of his rodeos. It was very much what we all would have figured from them. Josie’s mom had about murdered them when she found out, but everyone was mollified by their big wedding reception a month later.
“What are you three doing out here when the party’s in there?” Josie waved at where we were standing to inside, where I guessed she was implying we should have been standing. “Everyone’s asking where you guys are.”
“Sorry, sorry. We’re coming.” Rowen carried Elodie through the front door, and I followed. “We just needed a breath of fresh air.”
“A breath of fresh air takes two seconds, not twenty minutes.” Josie crossed her arms and gave me a look, guessing I was the ringleader of our escape.
I lifted my hands. “Thanks for the clarification. Consider me fully stocked on breaths of fresh air for the rest of the day.”
As we made our way back into the packed living room, which had spilled over into the dining room and kitchen, I couldn’t help but smile as I studied the faces of old friends and new ones, family members I saw every day and ones I hadn’t seen in years, acquaintances I could place and some I couldn’t . . . all of these dozens of people here to celebrate our precious child. Sure, Josie might have gone overboard with the décor, menu, and guest list, and I might have needed to escape for a while to catch my breath, but I was thankful for each person in the house, showing their support for our new family.
As Rowen wove through the room, no fewer than ten different sets of arms reached out to take Elodie, but Rowen wasn’t ready to give her up just yet. She was almost as greedy when it came to time with our daughter as I was. Finally Grandma won out, and Elodie seemed thrilled with the outcome. My sisters gathered close by, each of them fretting with the hem of Elodie’s dress or the position of the tiny bow in her hair or fixing a sock starting to slide off. She had as many doting extended family members as she did immediate ones—my daughter would never lack for love in her life.
“Hey, not sure there’s a rule book or anything for this, but I’m winging it.” Garth shouldered up beside me and handed me a beer. “Pretty sure it must fall in the godfather’s list of duties that he keep the dad good and buzzed at the baby shower.”
It was the same kind of beer Rowen had, and the memory made me smile. I’d been such a wreck for half a year and for what? Everything had turned out just fine. All of that worry and anxiety and those sleepless nights . . . they’d turned me into a fool who’d driven his truck into a tree.
“Hey, I’m already buzzed. Thanks though.” I handed the beer back to Garth.
“Buzzed? All I’ve seen you downing is that pink fruit punch with ice cream and rubber duckies floating on top. I helped Josie make that junk, and there’s nothing in there that a man from Montana should be drinking at a baby shower.”
I held out my arms and winked. “I’m buzzed on life.”
Garth rolled his eyes. “Asshole.”
“Hey, you’re Elodie’s godfather. No cussing at her baby shower.”
Garth grimaced. “You’re right, Jess. Shit, I really have a lot to learn, don’t I?”
I shook my head. Cursing was such an involuntary function for Garth, kind of like breathing, that he didn’t even realize he’d said it half the time.
I made sure Elodie was out of hearing range before clamping my hands on his shoulders. “Shit, you really do, Black.”
After flicking his hat down over his eyes, I made my way over to where my mom was waving a rubber giraffe, which had been a gift from Hyacinth, in front of Elodie. She studied it for a moment before snatching it in her pudgy little hands and almost immediately putting its ear in her mouth.
“Hey, Mom?” I called as I hurried toward them. “She’s got that in her mouth.”
My mom and Rowen exchanged a look as Hyacinth lifted the box the giraffe had come from. “That’s because it’s a teething toy, Neurotic.”
I read the label twice to make sure before letting myself look sheepish. “Never hurts to double-check.”
Old habits died hard. I might have moved past hyper-vigilance to the tenth degree, but I was still hitting it to the first, if not second at times. Like when I found my eight-month-old baby girl sticking items of a questionable toxic versus non-toxic nature into her mouth.
“Do you really think her godmother-slash-aunt would let little Elodie get hurt or anywhere close to it on her watch?” Lily stuck her hand on her hip and lifted an eyebrow at me.
“Excuse me. One of her godmothers,” Hyacinth inserted, nudging Lily, or shoving her, I wasn’t sure.
“Yeah, Jesse, chill out. There’re three of us godmother-aunts close by, so Elodie’s in good hands.” Clementine gave the giraffe a squeeze.
When Elodie discovered that in addition to it being a fantastic thing to chew on, the giraffe also made a sound, her eyes looked like they would burst from the excitement of it.
“And a grandma,” Mom added.
“And godmother number four,” Josie piped up as she shouldered between Lily and Hyacinth to get her Elodie time. “Although since I was there to help bring you into this world and will teach you all you ever need to know about boys, I feel that slash-aunt part should be added to my godmother title.”